


Day Is Done

by oftypewritersandribbons



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Feels, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2210898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oftypewritersandribbons/pseuds/oftypewritersandribbons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes is a recently returned war veteran, safely delivered home but with the psychological and emotional scars that come hand in hand with fighting a war. Darcy Lewis - intern extraordinaire by day, and bar tender by night, unsure of where she stands in the world might just be the shove Bucky needs. </p><p>In the midst of discovering who they are, two hapless souls are thrown together and somehow learn to muddle through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Convalescence

The soldier pulled the grey hood of his worn sweater over his head. Gathering the sides of his jacket together he snuggled down into the warmth of the old leather. The sea was grey – uninviting as it lapped up against the shore. He could just make out the bright lights of Coney Island through the spray of mist and rain. Rubbing at his left shoulder he sighed, he could feel the ache in his bones – his physical therapist had told him to make sure he wasn’t going to be outside in the cold for long spells of time but no sooner had Bucky made the promise and he was wilfully breaking it.

 

There was something wholly comforting about sitting alone in the rain, seagulls wheeling overhead as they scouted out their next meal. With the fairground only a stone’s throw away it was easy pickings for the scavengers. He shifted on the spot, eyelashes blinking away the fine mist of water that obscured his vision. Huffing softly to himself he turned his gaze towards the sea, the comforting rush of water against the beach lulling him towards long lost sleep.

 

 

The quiet buzz of his cell phone in his pocket brought Bucky back to the present. Quickly pulling out the sleek piece of by now out-dated technology Bucky winced at the caller ID. Ignoring the persistent buzz Bucky resisted the urge to throw the phone into the sea, he might not be willing to talk to Steve but that didn’t mean he was about to throw a perfectly good phone away.

 

With a grunt of discomfort Bucky pushed himself off the bench he had been perching on. It was probably time to head back to the apartment – Steve had undoubtedly been calling to ascertain where his best friend was. The clearly unslept in bed an obvious indicator that Bucky had gone on one of his all night walkabouts. The unsavoury element of Brooklyn hardly a deterrent, two tours and one injury later Bucky still remembered the combat training – the cool gunmetal between his fingers as he focused on some nameless enemy. With a growl of displeasure Bucky dragged himself away from the hot desert sands. Roughly rubbing his eyes he tired to ignore the acrid taste on his tongue. He wasn’t there anymore – he was stateside and no one was trying to kill him. He wasn’t going to be asked to hold a riffle or try and keep Morita’s chest closed to minimise the bleeding from a clearly fatal wound. The once strong heart of his comrade in arms failing beneath his very fingers. Bucky blinked, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t go back there, he wouldn’t go back to the desert and the blood.

 

His phone buzzed in pocket again, quickly pulling it out his eyes skimmed over the screen.

<Hey, where are you?>

Bucky sighed, he knew Steve meant well but he was a grown ass man that didn’t need checking up on every other minute.

Rapidly composing a text in reply Bucky hit send.

<Heading home – see you in a few>

Bucky winced, home meant Steve and surreptitious glances and the promise of talking. Something Bucky wasn’t inclined to do yet. But home also meant a hot shower and mug of coffee. And right now with his shoulder screaming in protest, his eyes heavy with lack of sleep thoughts of the latter won out.

 

The apartment he shared with Steve in Brooklyn was beautiful, all exposed brick and wood flooring. His favourite aspect to the flat was the chalkboard that stretched the entire length of the open living room. It was something Steve had put up on a whim – something about the immediacy of art. Bucky hadn’t exactly been paying attention. He just appreciated that Steve would sketch out whatever took his fancy and they had insta wall art. And then there was that one time, a somewhat memorable moment when he’d up-ed and left a disgruntled blonde in his bedroom. Upon returning from physio he’d been greeted by a somewhat colourful message in precise print emblazoned across the board.

 

Toeing off his boots Bucky slowly peeled off his jacket – wincing in pain as he yanked his arms out of the sleeves.

“That you Buck?”

Steve’s voice rang out from the kitchen before his head peeked out into the hallway.

“Yeah,” Bucky drawled. Running a hand through ever so damp hair.

“You want any breakfast?” Steve asked pointedly, a small frown quickly concealed as the blond took in his friend's appearance.

“Yeah, you got any coffee?” Bucky asked hopefully, blue eyes turning somewhat sheepish as he met Steve’s gaze.

“Just put some on.” Steve answered. “Pancakes too.” A bright smile suddenly erupted across his features as he went back to flipping the fluffy goodness.

“Thanks, I’ll be out in a minute.” Bucky called out, already his thoughts drifting towards the hot water. 

 

Ducking into the bathroom Bucky efficiently stripped himself of his clothing until he was standing in a tee shirt and boxers. Gingerly pulling at the white fabric he slowly pulled the top over his head. Ignoring his reflection in the mirror Bucky went straight for the shower. His cotton boxer briefs quickly joined the pile of clothes on the floor as he stepped into their walk in shower. The strong jet of hot water hit his back and Bucky hissed in a mixture of pleasure and pain. Squirting a dollop of shower gel into his hands he soon worked the soap into a lather across his wet skin.

 

Leaning against the tiled wall Bucky let loose a shuddering sigh, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes he tried to force out the images that were currently running through his head. The weight of his dog tags around his neck was suddenly unbearable; clawing at his skin Bucky roughly grabbed the tags in his fist before swiping them up and over his head. Choking back a sob he slowly unfurled his fingers, the water still pounding down across his body, wet hair dripping into his eyes as he stared at the metal plates that hung off the practical ball chain.  

 

_Barnes_

_James B_

_442-03-4732_

_O Pos_

_Catholic_

Shoving his now sodden hair from out of his face Bucky eyed the simple print, his name engraved in metal - permanent, unwavering and enduring.  James Buchanan Barnes was still a sergeant in the United States Army but the thought of being redeployed left Bucky gasping for air.  The word _coward_ echoed through his head. He couldn’t leave the service, not now, not ever. Not when every member of his squad and been cut down and he was the last man standing. He owed it to them to carry on - to not let the desert and blood claim him. To be the soldier they expected him to be.

 

Pressing his body against the tiled wall Bucky tried to shake the tumultuous wave of emotion that was threatening to drag him under. With a grunt of frustration he yanked the chain back over his head and turned off the water. Standing in the steaming shower he blinked back the fear and rage before pushing open the glass door. Towelling himself dry he scooped his clothes up into his arms before hurrying to his room. Every mirror passed studiously ignored, his left shoulder an unwanted, ugly reminder.

 

Settling into the couch, a steaming mug of coffee clutched between his hands Bucky took an appreciative sip. Sighing his eyes snapped open; he could feel Steve’s eyes boring a hole into the back of his head.

“What is it pal?” Bucky questioned, scratching his neck as he sent Steve a hard look.

“So, Clint’s asked us out for drinks – wants us to meet this girl he’s been seeing.”

“What bar?” Bucky sighed, he knew that he wasn’t going to get out of this, not with the combined forces of Barton and Rogers.

“Oh some place in Williamsburg.” Steve shrugged. “Clint’s gonna text the address.”

“Sure,” Bucky nodded. “S’long as there’s vodka.”

Steve expelled a sharp burst of air through his nose but held his tongue; Bucky could see the signs that the blond wanted to talk. To give him the wide, non-judgemental eyes and sit with him until Bucky could choke out a hazy account of what had happened.

“Buck…” Steve began, his voice imploring, eyes liquid silver as he started forward, his hand reaching out to clasp Bucky’s shoulder.

Jerking backwards Bucky instantly regretted his reaction, the look of absolute anguish that Steve wasn’t quite fast enough to hide was enough to make Bucky feel like a complete jerk. He knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault, he knew the other man didn’t mean anything by it but he couldn’t stop himself. The sense of disgust and self-loathing he felt for his arm was like a molten pit of despair in the depths of his stomach. It served as a constant token of his survival – of his failure. 

“I’m sorry – “ Steve rushed, his voice only slightly strangled as he fixed Bucky with a look of such utter sorrow that left the soldier wanting to take it all back.

“Nah –“ Bucky waved his hand dismissively. “I was just startled is all.”

“You don’t have to … “ Steve intoned firmly, his voice taking on the gravely tone he only reserved for, the quote unquote, serious conversations.

“Steve, seriously – you just freaked me out for second, wasn’t expecting you in my space.” Doing his best to ignore Steve’s searching look Bucky flexed his arms before rising to his feet. “I’ll get Clint to text the details – I’ve got errands to run and stuff.”

“Sure,” Steve nodded.

Bucky offered his friend a tight smile before bundling himself back into his coat and heading out into the cold autumnal air. The brisk breeze going someway to distract him as he hurried towards the subway and the graffitied trains that would take him into the city.

* * *

“No way!” Darcy Lewis exclaimed as she stared at her friend sitting opposite her. “You cannot be serious? No way is that his _actual_ name!”

“I swear to you Darcy, I am dating a guy named Thor.” Jane nodded solemnly as she took a sip of her tea.

“And next you’ll be telling me he’s named his penis Mjolnir.”

Jane visibly blanched, “Oh God…”

Darcy let rip an exceptionally loud cackle at the look of sheer consternation stamped across Jane’s face, Darcy tried to clamp down on her giggles but to no avail. “Have you got that far yet?”

“No we have not,” Jane stated primly. “He is a gentleman.”

“How’d you meet him?” Darcy asked, keenly interested in her friend’s exploits as she only really had Jane to live vicariously through. The majority of Darcy’s other friends were either perpetually single or wrapped up in long-term relationships.

“We met at a seminar over at Columbia,” Jane sighed dreamily. “He goes there.”

“When you say goes there….”

“He’s a research fellow,” Jane rolled her eyes.

Darcy smirked, “Just checking. We don’t want a repeat of last year’s Christmas party.”

“He had a beard Darcy! 18 year olds shouldn’t be allowed to have that much facial hair.” Jane wailed, slumping forward across the table. “You’re never going to let that go are you?”

“Unless it does turn out Thor is in possession of his very own Mjolnir then no, no I am not.” Darcy’s red lips widened into a smug grin before taking a triumphant sip of her hot chocolate, licking away the foam with relish and fixing Jane with a look of sheer, unadulterated glee.

“I wish I could say he was worth it,” Jane groused. Tugging at the string attached to her tea bag she stared into the steaming depths of her mug, a small frown marring her otherwise delicate features. Finally snapping out of her reverie Jane looked back towards Darcy, “You up to anything tonight?”

“Working…” Darcy sighed. “Seriously in between this internship at SI and the bar I literally have absolutely no time to watch Netflix. Like at all.”

Jane rolled her eyes, “You said you were going to quit. You are taking a paid internship after all.”

“I know…” Darcy sighed. “But I know I’ll miss the social side. Besides cute boys who try and buy me drinks is just about enough of an incentive.”

“Any cute boys of late?” Jane asked off hand, eyeing a pastry as it travelled past on a plate bound for another customer.

“No.” Darcy rolled her eyes, “Totally bums that I’m not into the facial hair.”

“Darce –“ Jane glowered.

“I am not making fun of you. It’s a genuine thing, I’m just waiting until we hit Peak Beard.”

“Peak Beard?” Jane questioned, scoffing. “That isn’t a thing.”

“So is. I read an article.” Darcy nodded sagely, taking another gulp of her drink.

“So – what is it?” Jane’s eyebrow arched as she studied Darcy critically.

“Well, we’ll get to the point that there is literally so much beard around that being clean shaven becomes attractive again.” Darcy shrugged nonchalantly. “Or something like that.”

“Negative frequency-dependent sexual selection.” Jane nodded in understanding.

Darcy rolled her eyes, “Do you like _all_ science?”

Jane laughed, “Talk to me about linear graphs and I’ll be putty in your hands.”

“Does Thor talk to you about linear graphs?” Darcy waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Jane flushed, causing Darcy to send her friend a look. “Well, there isn’t actually that much talking.”

“And you two aren’t boinking?”

“No,” Jane sighed. “Just a lot of making out. Anyway, weren’t we supposed to be supplementing your extensive selection of knitwear with another jumper?”

“It’s cold out – alright?! Besides, novelty knitwear is totally my thing.” Darcy shrugged defensively as she shouldered her bag and motioned for Jane to follow her. 

* * *

 

Shoving her bag into her locker out back Darcy quickly gave herself a once over in the mirror, despite her earlier declaration about knitwear she knew it didn’t exactly hurt to have her natural ‘assets’ uncovered. Pulling her hair into a topknot she made for the stairs and the already heaving bar. It was a Saturday night and the crowds were out in full, that and the bar did stock some of the best ales in the city. Ducking under the worn wooden counter Darcy flashed Lacey a smile before motioning for the next customer to place their order.

“You paying by cash or card?” Darcy asked as she quickly dipped down to relieve the well-stocked fridges of six bottles of bear.

“Card,” the man answered, a good-natured smile tugging at his lips.

“Sure,” Darcy nodded as she pulled out a card reader. “Just gimme a sec.”

“Busy in here,” the blond commented mildly, eyeing the various clientele The Anvil had to offer.

“Yeah,” Darcy replied slowly. “Saturday night and all.”

“Right. Obviously.” The man muttered somewhat bashfully, a pink tinge creeping into his cheeks.

Suddenly a tall, slender built man slung a dark brown arm across the blond’s shoulders, a pitying smile plastered across his face.

“C’mon man, I’ve been sent over to help carry the drinks. That, and Barnes thinks you might be dangerously close to striking out. And I am after all the world’s best wing man.”

Darcy snorted.

“I really wasn’t…” Steve stuttered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Darcy smiled graciously. “Enjoy your night guys.”

Offering a small salute the black guy quickly dragged Steve back towards their table, the rest of their companions raucous laughter rising up from the table in the corner. Resisting the urge to chuckle Darcy settled for shaking her head as she moved on to her next customer.

 

With the continuous bustle and constant stream of customers Darcy barely had the chance to look up at the clock. By the time 11 o’clock rolled around she was just about ready to drop, taking a hasty sip of water from her glass stashed at the back of the bar she ran a hand through already messy hair.

“Hey, can I have another six of whatever we’ve been drinking all night?” A rough voice asked, interrupting Darcy from the brief break she was attempting to snatch.

 

Head snapping round, a warm smile affixed to her features and Darcy suddenly found herself crowded by the presence of a strikingly handsome man, Barnes, she thought to herself. Doing her best to lean back without being completely obvious Darcy shot the man another more genuine smile. It was a testament to her self-control that she managed to produce the bottled beers without a fault when she wanted to do nothing more but lean over the bar and shove her tongue down his throat

“Anything else?” Darcy asked, only the slightest lilt to her voice betraying the current thoughts that were swarming through her head. Namely she wanted to taste every bit of him.

“Nah, we’re good thanks.”

Darcy nodded slowly before somewhat impulsively she blurted out, “Let your friend now I totally didn’t think he was hitting on me or anything.”

The man laughed, “I dunno doll, ever think that he was hitting on you and me telling him that would pretty much be the ultimate smack down?”

“He really wasn’t,” Darcy chuckled somewhat nervously. Unsure of where her sudden shyness had come from.

“Well, I know I would have. Remind me to smack him round the back of the head next chance I get.”

“Are you?” Darcy called out, and the man faltered.

“Am I what?” Barnes asked, the smallest of teasing smirks dancing across his mouth.

Darcy blushed.

“You know…”

Bucky smiled ruefully, his eyes suddenly a whole shade darker, his shoulders hunched forward as he gathered the various beers into his hands.  “Not today dollface. Ask me tomorrow.”

Darcy nodded mutely as she began to pile the dirty glasses into the tray ready for the dishwasher.

“You’ll be here tomorrow?” Darcy shouted to his retreating figure, the black jeans that encased his legs doing him all sorts of favours.

At that Bucky grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners and Darcy could feel the warmth radiating off him.

“It’s a date.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I just had a sudden urge to write this and ended up writing like a crazy person in my notebook.
> 
> Anyway, please let me know what you think! I hope the de-powered setting works :)
> 
> Here's a link re Peak Beard: http://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2014/apr/16/fashion-conscious-men-warned-we-may-have-reached-peak-beard
> 
> (The chalkboard wall thing is pretty much what JGL has in his apartment in 500 Days of Summer).


	2. Electroshock

The guitarist strummed plaintively in the background, his sweet yet husky voice projected throughout the room by the rather impressive sound system. Sighing to herself Darcy tried to stay alert but she only had thoughts for her bed. Giving a somewhat lacklustre smile to the latest patron to approach her at the bar with an order as long as her arm she furtively took a sip from her can of Red Bull. Wincing somewhat as the cloying, sickly sweet liquid slid down her throat she attempted a little jig on the spot. She had three hours to go before the bar closed for the night and she could finally think about sleep before waking up at ridiculous o’clock for her internship at Stark Industries.

 

Straight out of college and with what little savings she had Darcy began applying for as many internships as possible. After what seemed like an eternity of bad job applications where she attempted to show just how much of a team player she really was, the four-month placement with SI had come her way.  Admittedly she had yet to catch a glimpse of the notorious Tony Stark or his right hand woman, Pepper Potts but her boss kept her busy enough. The mild mannered Phil Coulson who had a glint in his eye that made Darcy think he could probably find one hundred ways to kill you with a paper clip without getting a crease in his tie, was a stickler for the rules. But somehow, in spite of her loud shirts and even louder mouth she had managed to impress him. The allusion to a permanent position in a different department had been mentioned on more than one occasion. She wasn’t about to hold her breath but the thought of being taken on permanently did leave her feeling somewhat giddy.

 

Although the sense of impending doom that only happened to her when one part of her life was going swimmingly well was beginning to creep up on her. Of course there was absolutely no basis for this, but then Darcy had never been the most logical of people.

 

“Hey Darce!” Lacey called out from the far side of the bar, having just pulled a pint for a rather splendidly bearded fellow perching at the end of the bar consuming an unhealthy amount of peanuts.

“Yeah?” Darcy replied, turning her head towards her friend.

“What was up with you and that guy yesterday?”

“Which guy?” Darcy replied, feigning ignorance but the effect was somewhat ruined by the faint tinge of pink that now coloured her cheeks.

“Oh the guy you were pretty much fucking with your eyes. You remember, the guy with dark hair and steely blue eyes and don’t fuck with me attitude?”

“I was not…” Darcy began to defend herself before catching sight of Lacey’s sceptical face; she clearly had been caught out.

“So – he ask you out?” Lacey asked, walking towards Darcy as her head bobbed along to the music.

“Well not really, I was kind of hoping he’d be around tonight but I guess I didn’t leave that much of an impression.” Darcy huffed somewhat; glad there was a sudden lull in customers.

“Well, it’s his loss.” Lacey said supportively before ducking under the bar. “Be back in a sec, gonna get a cigarette in whilst I can.”

“Sure thing.”

 

The gig had long since wound down and the last few stragglers had long since left the drinking establishment. Whistling a tune softly to herself Darcy shoved the hair from out of her face impatiently as she began to scrub down the tables. In no time at all she was placing the chairs on the tops of the tables before stepping back to admire her handiwork. Giving a brief wave to Lacey and her manager Tom as they began the process of cashing up she headed towards the door.

 

Stepping out into the brisk night air Darcy quickly tugged a sweater over her head, when she finally emerged, hair mused from the thick cable knit she blinked back a gasp of surprise. Standing under a lamppost was a man, a plume of grey smoke curling up towards the yellow light as he took steady drags from a nearly spent cigarette. Grey hoodie pulled over his head, one broad shoulder leaning against the pole he cast a great shadow across the tarmac.  Groping around in her bag Darcy felt for her Taser, it was with quiet relief when her fingers felt the cool plastic of the defensive weapon. Taking quick, purposeful steps in the opposite direction of the loiterer she powered towards the subway station.

“Hey! Hey miss!”

Darcy pulled her bag closer into her body as she picked up the pace. Hand tightening further still, if the guy was about to try anything he would be in for a somewhat nasty surprise. Although if she thought about it, she wasn’t sure the last time a would-be mugger had called her miss.

“Hey, seriously hold up!”

A worn, calloused hand suddenly landed on her shoulder and reflexively Darcy pulled out her Taser. But before she could deploy a shock that was enough to bring a cow down she found her hand suddenly deprived of the yellow weapon, her wrist smarting having been forcibly disarmed. Eyes widening in shock Darcy readied herself to scream, but no sooner had her lungs begun to unleash a wail that would put a banshee to shame the man’s other hand firmly clamped down over her mouth.

 

Bright blue eyes suddenly met her grey.

 

“Calm down. I am not trying to attack you. I’m going to let go now ok?”

Darcy nodded slowly; the fear that had dominated her conscious only seconds before fast leaving her.

“What the hell dude? Seriously. What. The. Hell?” Darcy exclaimed when she regained use of her mouth, a gentle slap to his arm punctuating each word.  
  
“Sorry…” The man muttered ruefully, as he reluctantly handed back her Taser.

“I could have Tased you. And trust me – it would have hurt. Like a lot.” Darcy nodded emphatically.

“I’ve had worse – trust me.” The man echoed, a crooked half smile tugging at his lips.

The anger and annoyance vanished quickly, and instead Darcy was left frowning in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, clearly I’m out of practise as the last girl I attempted to hit on didn’t try to knock me out with an electroshock weapon.”

Darcy’s mouth twitched, “Loitering under street lights like a total weirdo is not how you pick up women. Well, maybe you might get picked up…”

“Are you suggesting that I was working that street corner?” The man asked whilst doing his best to sound scandalised.

“Well,” said Darcy, grinning wickedly, relishing her words. “You sure are pretty.” 

“So you wanna partake in some anonymous sex for a small fee?” The man questioned glibly, his eyes glinting with humour.

Darcy rolled her eyes, before sticking her hand out. “My name’s Darcy.”

“Bucky… James.” Barnes replied warmly as he took Darcy’s hand in his own.

“So…” Darcy bit her lip, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“I wanted to come earlier but I had this thing…” Bucky whispered, before conceding softly. “I don’t really do this.”

“Scare young women half to death?” Darcy joked, acutely aware of the sudden awkwardness that had fallen over them.

Bucky snorted, “No, well maybe due to my sudden lack of ability to interpret basic social norms. What I mean is, I don’t… haven’t, really tried to expand my social circle.”

“Expand your social circle.” Darcy nodded her head slowly, eyebrows escaping into her hairline. “Is that what they call it now?”

Bucky sighed, his forehead creasing.

Taking pity Darcy reaching out to brush her hand against his forearm, the fact that Bucky shifted his weight to guard his left side not lost to her. “Sorry, I’m being unnecessarily harsh. I’m exhausted but I’m way too wired thanks to the two cans of Red Bull I necked at work.”

“Long weekend?” Bucky asked wryly.

“You have no idea,” Darcy sighed. “And I have to go to my other work tomorrow.”

“So maybe turning up at the end of your shift unannounced wasn’t a good idea?” Bucky mused, scratching the back of his neck, shamefaced.

“Well, next time if you turn up with Chinese take-out consider all forgiven.” Darcy gave him a small, sweet smile.

“So, how about this,” Bucky drawled. “I ask you for your number and we arrange for us to meet somewhere that doesn’t involve a darkened street and your Taser?”

Darcy grinned. The guy seemed to be up and down, moments when she could see that talking to women had once been a slick operation for him but then every so often something flashed through his eyes. Whether it was the way he guarded his left side, or the somewhat awkward demeanour that appeared and disappeared like smoke on the wind. But it didn’t matter, not really, when Darcy had the undeniable urge to figure him out. To peel back the layers that shrouded the man with mystery.  
   
“Sure.” Darcy replied before pulling out her phone and passing it to Bucky, fingers trembling ever so slightly as they brushed past his. 

* * *

 

Bucky’s limbs were trembling, his body dripping with sweat as he continued to hold the position. The gym was empty save for him and his physio instructor, cracking one eye open he noted with some resentment that Melinda was glowing. Her breathing steady as she balanced on one leg, arms held up against her chest. Hissing in frustration Bucky dropped his foot before staggering towards the bench where his water bottle sat.

“You gave up,” Melinda commented mildly as she joined the army ranger.

“I’m just struggling to see how this helps with my arm,” Bucky growled, slumping down onto the wooden bench.

“I am helping you build core strength, I want you to try Tai Chi as well.” Melinda sipped delicately at her own water. As per usual there wasn’t a hair out of place, her calm countenance already causing Bucky’s urge to fight to leave.

“So yoga and Tai Chi, as well as the regular shit?” Bucky groaned, slumping against the walls. “You realise the guys are so going to have field day with this?”

“You mean Barton and Wilson?” Melinda asked. “They’re both soldiers, or they were at least – you can tell them it was mandated.”

Bucky smiled, “So it isn’t?”

“No,” Melinda breathed through her nose. “But I would like you to.”

“You’re like a school teacher you know that May? I’m finding it increasingly hard to let myself disappoint you.” Bucky groused, wiping his face with a towel. “It’s kind of pissing me off.”

Melinda grinned rather smugly, “I will use whatever techniques I have at my disposal to get you better. C’mon, lets get out of here and you can tell me about the girl you’ve been texting.”

“Who says…” Bucky tailed off, unwilling to keep up the charade in the face of Melinda’s expression.

“Please, you are so obvious,” Melinda replied with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s been a while ok?” Bucky defended as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head and yanked on his shoes.

“Clearly.” Melinda commented dryly.

Bucky sent her glare, “You’re an asshole, you know that? I get enough of this shit from Clint.”

“And I’m sure you give as good as you get. What does Steve say?” May asked, holding open the door as the two exited the gym together.

“Oh, well Steve is my number one cheerleader.”

“That’s an interesting image,” May laughed, zipping up her jacket as she did so.  
  
“When did you meet Steve?” Bucky frowned, his eyes narrowing as he shot Melinda a look.

“You showed me a picture, of the two you together… before.”  Melinda tugged at the hem of her coat, uncharacteristically bashful. Clearing her throat she met Bucky’s gaze with one of equal steel. “Are you always this protective?”

James laughed, “Kinda yeah. I’ve been looking out for Stevie since junior school. Steve was a little small for his age; I was a couple years older and knew better. Steve would just get into scraps you know? Not because he wanted trouble, just cos he couldn’t stand it when he saw something wrong happening. Didn’t matter if they guy was built like a tank…”

“He doesn’t like bullies?” Melinda surmised.

“Got it in one.” Bucky laughed, pulling his hand through his hair. “Then he hit high school and actually grew, put on a few pounds.”

“And he could look after himself?”

“Didn’t stop me from trying though…” Bucky smiled ruefully. “When I shipped out, he looked after my sister. He’s like my brother. So yeah, I’m kind of protective.”

Melinda nodded slowly, digesting the information. “You should bring him along to one of our sessions – it’ll be good for him to see what you do.”

“You’ll eat him alive.” Bucky commented, a gleeful grin forming.

There was a pregnant paused, and Bucky blinked, he could have sworn he saw May lick her lips.

“And I’d enjoy it too.”

Bucky burst into laughter, raucous, rib-shaking laughter. Wiping the tears from his eyes he shot Melinda a sideways looks. “You’re a dark horse, you know that May?”

“I find it best to keep people guessing.” Melinda deadpanned before cracking a smile. “C’mon – I know a place round the corner.”

* * *

 Shutting the door behind him Bucky dropped his keys into the dish on the sideboard. Balancing several grocery bags he staggered towards the kitchen, glancing at the clock he had an hour at least until Steve got back in. His friend had recently started work for a graphic design company in the city, and it was namely thanks to Steve that they could afford to keep the apartment. Bucky sighed, Steve really did have the patience of a saint, whilst willing to deal with Bucky’s temper tantrums and at the other end of the spectrum, his long spells of not saying very much at all, Steve footed most of the bills. Unpacking the bags Bucky quickly washed his hands and set to work. It wasn’t exactly much, but he could make dinner.

 

It was to the sound of Miles Davis and the smell of cooking onions that Steve found Bucky in the kitchen 45 minutes later. Taking a large gulp of wine Bucky gestured for to Steve sit down before returning to his cooking.

“What’s all this?” Steve asked, an elegant eyebrow rising in question.

“I’ve been an ass lately.” Bucky said by way of an explanation. Shrugging he continued to dice peppers. “I figure I could actually do something round here that was productive.”

“And so you’re making us dinner?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Bucky nodded. “Melinda asked you to come round for one of our sessions today.”

“Oh?” Steve asked – his interest piqued.

“Yeah,” Barnes nodded again.

“Sure,” the blond replied, resisting the urge to shake Bucky for further information.

“Great,” James enthused. “Maybe, don’t wear one of your tighter tee shirts.”

“Seriously? They aren’t…”

“Christ Stevie, have you seen half the looks the women give you when you go for a run?” Bucky rolled his eyes; sometimes Steve really could be blind.

“They’re comfortable!” Steve defended.

Bucky snorted, “Whatever man. Clearly the ‘Aw shucks ma’am’ thing works for you.”

“Not everyone can use brooding as effectively as you Buck,” Steve laughed.

“Well I almost got Tased for my efforts last night.” Barnes replied somewhat darkly as he poured a can of tomatoes in to join the already cooking peppers and onions.

Steve choked on his wine, “So she thought you were going to attack her? Real smooth Barnes.”

“Whatever, I got her number.” Bucky smiled happily, not noticing the look of contentment in Steve’s eyes.

“Her name too right?” Steve teased.

“Yes you asshole. Her name too.”

Bucky tried his best to look unamused but his grin kept ruined the effect. Shrugging to himself the solider continued to make dinner, thoughts of Darcy crowding his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback! 
> 
> I couldn't help but add Melinda May into this. 
> 
> I was also pretty much imagining Benjamin Francis Leftwich singing through the whole bar scene.


	3. Magnets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “More tequila, more love, more anything. More is better.” – Dr Meredith Grey, Grey’s Anatomy

Fingers drummed nervously against the counter top, the gentle bustle surrounding Bucky not going far enough to distract his overwrought mind. The feeling he was being stood up was fast creeping up on him. Doing his best to settle his nerves Bucky took a deliberate sip from the mug of coffee he’d ordered. The café had been her choice, it was small but somehow the proprietors had managed to cram in several tables and mismatching chairs.  Thanks to the odd assortment of cups and several well-thumbed books cramming the shelves that lined the establishment’s walls the coffee shop had managed to attain the same level of intimacy only normally present when sharing a pot of tea in your closest, most oldest friend’s kitchen.

 

He was wearing his best pair of jeans and a tee shirt he was convinced Steve had somehow managed to shrink in the wash, Melinda had merely given him an appreciative nod of approval when she had seen him sporting it once. Bucky had been somewhat mollified when struck by a wave of pre date jitters he'd sent Clint a rambling message, his friend had subsequently demanded a picture so he could show his girlfriend. Natasha, who Bucky had been reliably informed had impeccable taste, had given him the thumbs up. He was rocking the James Dean look – whatever that meant. Resisting the urge to over think the implications of Clint showing his girlfriend a picture of another man for a score out of ten, Bucky had quickly headed out of the apartment. He’d been somewhat relieved that Steve was running errands. Bucky wasn’t sure he could stomach a look that ordinarily belonged on parents sending their children off to school for the first time on his best friend and all in relation to the first date he’d been on since coming back.

 

Bucky looked nervously at his watch before checking his phone again. Nothing. The screen remained mockingly blank. As the door chimed Bucky reflexively looked up and to his immense pleasure saw Darcy walk over the threshold. She had clearly come straight from work, a navy shift dress wrapped around her frame, hair piled up on her head and a smart coat thrown over her shoulders. Darcy looked every inch the professional and Bucky couldn’t help the grin of appreciation that flitted over his features – he just hoped he didn’t come across as being entirely too lascivious. Catching sight of the solider Darcy marched purposely towards him, her impressively high shoes thudding against the well-worn wooden floorboards.

 

“So I really need a drink – do you mind if we get out of here?” Darcy asked with very little ceremony, her gaze verging on challenging rather than apologetic.

She was to the point – direct – Bucky could appreciate that. Realising that Darcy would probably want an answer Bucky nodded distractedly, his eyes still fixed on her fine features.

“Anywhere in mind?” Bucky finally questioned, taking a hasty final slurp of his coffee before rising to his feet, the chair scraping behind him.

“There’s this bar I know a couple of blocks from here.” Darcy sighed contemplatively, “They do the meanest cocktails. But today might call for tequila.”

“Rough day?” Bucky asked as he pulled the door open for Darcy, gesturing for her to step out first.

“You have no idea,” Darcy groaned before quickly pulling her features into a smile. “Sorry. That is totally not what I should be talking about. Sorry – again.”

“Don’t worry about it – I’m happy to help you vent.” Bucky shrugged, settling further into his jacket in an attempt to stave off the cold.

“Still, it’s totally not cool.” Darcy shook her head in clear annoyance before brightening considerably and adding. “How have you been? Were you waiting long? I’m sorry I was running late – I literally could not get out of the office.”

“I was a little early, my own fault really,” Bucky answered. Waving off Darcy’s concerns with a self-deprecating smile. “You work for Stark Industries right?”

Darcy nodded, “Yeah. Well I’m an intern. And you’d think I’d be used to the coffee runs by now, but seriously – do you have any idea how many ways you can take your coffee?”

“Not really, no.” Bucky shrugged sheepishly, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he did so. “I take my coffee black. And I’m pretty sure it’s the regular kind.”

“Oh so you’re gonna look down on me for taking sugar _and_ cream?” Darcy asked, giggling.

“Pretty much,” Bucky sighed dramatically. “Kind of a shame really – you were doing so well up until now.”

Darcy nodded contemplatively. “So, on a more serious note – what _are_ your deal breakers?”

“Oh you know the usual – I can’t be with someone who doesn’t appreciate the circumference of my balls….” Bucky deadpanned, his lips twitching.

“Oh that is so great!” Darcy exclaimed. “Because I'd totally appreciate the circumference of your balls – in fact, I’d probably be president of their fan club.”

Bucky guffawed, an impossibly large grin plastered across his features. “Sorry. I think you were attempting to have a serious conversation and there I go and muddy the waters with toilet humour.”

“Trust me, there is _always_ room for toilet humour.” Darcy smiled widely before tugging sharply on Bucky’s arm as the bar she’d been steering them to suddenly loomed large.

“And for the record, I’m not sure I could be with someone whose jeans are tighter than mine.” Darcy supplied, before ducking through into the dimly lit bar.

Casting a nervous glance towards his trousers before meeting Darcy’s amused gaze Bucky smiled warmly. “We may have a problem doll.”

Clapping her hands together and throwing back her head Darcy gave a husky laugh.

“Well, you’re just so pretty I might make an exception.” The brunette shot back, sending a wink in Bucky’s direction.

“So you just want me for my looks, is that it?” The solider teased, tugging gently on Darcy’s arm so she span into him, a melodious giggle escaping from between her lips.

“Well,” Darcy finally managed. “I did spend a good half hour mentally undressing you at work.”

“Really?”

Darcy nodded with great aplomb, before grinning wickedly. “I’ll have you know, I have an excellent imagination.”

Nervously scratching the back of his neck Bucky sent Darcy a hesitant glance. “I’m sure you’re giving me too much credit,” he muttered bashfully.

“Maybe. But like it really matters if you look like a Chippendale under that shirt anyway.” The brunette dismissed as she tugged Bucky down into a chair. “Hopefully you feel that way too, because this dress is like super supportive.”

“You’re beautiful.” Bucky abruptly blurted out, his cheeks colouring. Clearing his throat he tried to cover his embarrassment. “So what can I get you?”

“A glass of white wine would be lovely, I need a warm up before I hit the hard liquor.” Darcy replied smoothly, a playful grin dancing across her features.

Bucky pursed his lips in attempt to suppress an altogether too fond a smile that was dangerously close to escaping and giving the whole game away.

“Coming right up doll.”

 

Somehow one drink had lead to another and then suddenly dancing was suggested. Bucky wasn’t entirely sure how they’d got the club. Or why exactly he thought this was a good idea – dancing invariably lead to other things.  And the club was in no shortage of hidden, dark corners perfect in their ability to mask even darker deeds. Bucky shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he wasn’t about to turn this into some sort of assignation, he wasn’t about to use and discard her. The various women he’d been with since Iraq they had been simple, devoid of complications. Emotional entanglements were to be avoided at all costs.

 

And Darcy? He could already see the beginnings of complicated in the way she smiled – in how she made him feel. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to care. For a second he indulged himself in thinking that he was entirely normal, whole and unbroken. For a brief, burning moment Darcy made him forget the war. He wasn’t Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Last Man Standing. All the guilt and all the pain fell away, and he was just Bucky.

 

The music continued to pound through the speakers, the bass juddering through his body as strangers writhed around them. The young and beautiful of New York City were taking to the dance floor and it was all Bucky could do not to kiss her.

 

Darcy had managed to consume God knows how many glasses of wine and then they’d both got it into their heads that tequila slammers would be a good idea. He knew he really should be more careful, he knew that alcohol made for poor decision-making but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Steve had been telling him he needed to get out more, to have some fun -- this might not have been exactly what Steve had in mind. But it was what Bucky wanted.

 

Focusing his eyes on Darcy’s mouth Bucky bit back a gasp, her plump lower lip was ensnared by her teeth as she stared up coyly through her lashes. Reaching out hesitantly with his right hand Bucky tucked a stray curl behind her ear, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from the girl as the cool skin of his fingers met her warm cheek. Despite the familiar voice of self-doubt yelling at him to stop Bucky couldn’t resist the urge to let his hand linger. Darcy’s breathing coming in shorter bursts as they continued to sway to the music, their eyes remaining transfixed on each other’s.

 

The music poured from the speakers, thrumming through the air as they all moved as one to the beat. Bucky wasn’t entirely sure when their bodies had shifted to be so close together, instead he let his hand drift across her waist. He could positively taste her skin as she moved leisurely to the rhythm of the music, her previously subdued hair now cascading down her shoulders.

 

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d danced with a girl; it might have been senior prom, a horribly stiff affair. Nerves had got the best of him and having given his date her corsage he had proceeded to ignore her for most of the night before working up the courage to ask her to dance. Needless to say the stilted sequence of events that followed were something best forgotten. He’d learnt in college and during his subsequent spell in the military that he was in possession of a smile that could charm many a girl. The need to dance had hardly come up. At least he was better than Steve; guy couldn’t dance to save his life.

 

“What are you grinning about?” Darcy’s voice pierced through the fog and music.

“My friend Steve is all.” Bucky shook his head, a half smile drifting across his features.

“Is there something I should know?” the brunette teased, one elegant eyebrow arching in question.

“Yeah, I can see how that might come across.” Bucky conceded before adding, “He’s my best friend, you know? Stuck it out with me since we were kids.”

“Oh I figured you were all work buddies or something.” Darcy shrugged.

“Nah, Stevie boy’s an artist.”

“And you are?” Darcy asked, her fingers lightly dancing across his shoulders.

“Soldier.” Bucky replied curtly before his expression softened, and he expelled the breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. “James Barnes, Sergeant First Class, 75th Ranger Regiment.”

Darcy’s mouth formed a large ‘O’ before she quickly shut it and simply chose to nod. “So you’re…”

“On medical leave.” Bucky whispered softly.

“Maybe this is a conversation better saved for when I’m not drowning in tequila,” Darcy suggested.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, his hand momentarily leaving Darcy’s waist to rough up his hair. “It’s not exactly a pretty story…”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy whispered.

Blinking slowly Darcy lifted her hand to Bucky’s cheek, her thumb drifting in measured circles across his skin. Bucky stiffened, the action seemingly so natural to Darcy was horribly alien to him. Noticing his discomfort Darcy leant forward, her lips brushing against his cheek as she whispered into his ear.

“Lets just keep dancing for a while.”

Bucky nodded, his hands tightening their grip on Darcy’s waist as the music swelled around them.

 

With Darcy’s head resting against his shoulder Bucky breathed in deeply – savouring the scent of her skin, the smell of her perfume that clung to her hair. The two shuffled on the spot, rocking from side to side, entirely out of time with the relentless bass that reverberated about them. They wouldn’t be winning any trophies but that wasn’t the point. They were alone, completely lost to humdrum of the outside world – it all stood still. But as ever the buses kept trundling along Broadway, yellow cabs picked up punters and tired commuters jostled for space on the subway; New York went on without them.

“Darcy?”

“Mhmm,” the brunette looked up at him, her gaze warm.

Bucky faltered for a moment, the words were stuck in his throat in a last ditch attempt to stop him from making a complete fool of himself.

“Thank you.”

She blushed. And suddenly he was crowding her, his body pressed flush against hers as their lips crashed together. Her hot greedy mouth parting beneath his, a small whimper escaping her throat as he deepened the kiss, the desire for more pulsating through him. The stubble across Bucky’s cheeks grazed her skin, his fingers kneading her flesh desperate for purchase as she ground against him. Struggling for air Bucky pulled back, pressing his forehead against Darcy’s as they exchanged hot, frantic breath.

“Sorry…”

“You do not have to apologise for kissing me like that.” Darcy replied glibly as she wiped the faint red stain from Bucky’s lips. Grinning beneath Darcy’s fingers Bucky eyes crinkled at the corners.

“So you wont mind me doing it again?”

By way of an answer Darcy leant upwards, her lips pressing against Bucky’s as a shuddering sigh travelled through her body – content.

* * *

 

“I am such a kissing slut.” Darcy complained as she slumped forwards onto the workbench Jane was currently using. Sighing and doing her best impression of a harried mother of four, Jane quickly tidied away her papers and glared at Darcy over the top of her glasses.

“Are you trying out more looks to send your students for when you start lecturing?” Darcy asked, momentarily distracted. “Like, so you can freeze them into submission with one steely glare?”

“No, that was all for you,” Jane replied sweetly.  

“What? Why?” Darcy exclaimed, jolting upright and doing her best to look offended.

“You’re slobbing all over my paperwork.” Jane sniffed, before she scrawled out a note on her pad.

“C’mon… You totally need a break, besides, don’t you want to hear about how I exchanged saliva with a veritable stranger?”  
  
Jane pulled a sympathetic face, “Too much tongue?”

“No,” Darcy shook her head. “Just the right amount. He was pretty amazing actually.”

“So this the guy you almost attack after you finished your shift the other day?” Jane mused, tugging her hair free from the ponytail she had it secured in.

“Yeah,” Darcy nodded. “Bucky.”

“Bucky?” Jane repeated. “And you rib me for going out with someone called Thor?”

Darcy rolled her eyes, “It’s a nickname. James. He’s called James.”

“So what name will you be calling out in the throes of passion?” Jane teased, shoving her glasses onto the top of her head as she took a sip of her stone cold coffee. Grimacing she quickly set the mug down and went to turn on the percolator that sat adjacent to her desk.

“Well I certainly wont be crying out for him to pound me with Mjolnir.” Darcy shot back in challenge.

“We’ve covered this Darce,” Jane replied, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “So tell me about the guy you almost electrocuted but then decided to go on a date with.”

“Are we doing this? Are we actually getting into a ‘Who makes suckier relationship decisions’ competition? Because all I have to do is evoke the name of Donald Blake and you know you’ve got shit.”

Jane slumped in her chair, a groan of defeat mixed with a healthy dose of regret escaping her. “He was such an ass.”

“Yes, and Thor isn’t him so that’s already like a gazillion points in his favour.”

“He’s not Donald – not really a ringing endorsement Darce.” Jane muttered gloomily.

“All I’m saying is you’ve found a good one.” Darcy shrugged, picking at a discarded Poptart.

Jane gave a minute nod before finally giving up and shoving her paperwork to one side. “Are you going to see Bucky again?”

“Hopefully,” the intern sighed. “It was a little intense. I think he’s got some issues…”

“What do you mean?” Jane queried, her voice uncharacteristically hard as her tendency to be somewhat overprotective kicked into full force.

“He’s a soldier,” Darcy paused. “The Rangers were deployed in Iraq right?”

“I think so,” the scientist shrugged. “You’d have to check. Is that which regiment he served with?”

Darcy nodded slowly, her fingers worrying at a loose strand of hair. Biting her lip Darcy met Jane’s stare, her gaze shadowed with worry.

“He was injured. We didn’t really get into it but he was hurt in the line of duty Jane. He’s held a gun and fired it. He’s probably killed people and I get that’s his job but… I have absolutely no idea what that’s like.

“He was shipped off to some desert and pointed in the direction of the enemy and told to shoot. How do you come back from that? Do you ever leave that behind? He’s a soldier – he doesn’t have a say in what conflict our country engages in. He’s just sent there by some guy in Washington and told to do his duty. I … I have no idea what he’s been through. What he’s done. Jesus Jane – he’s been to war.

“ _War.”_

Jane expelled a long, slow breath, her hand reaching out to gently squeeze Darcy’s arm. Smiling gently she brushed the side of Darcy’s face with her free hand.

“You’re the most empathetic person I know Darcy, if he wants to talk to you about it he will. And you’ll listen and you’ll be compassionate and you’ll try your best to understand because that’s who you are.”

Darcy flushed, “Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it.” Jane shrugged. “Now, we are going to get out of here and grab some decent coffee and some actual food.

“Thanks Jane,” Darcy whispered.

“Don’t mention it. Now smile a little – you’ve got a cute boy who’s interested, you’ll cross all the other bridges when you get to them.”

Darcy gave Jane the most imperceptible of smiles.

“Atta girl!” The scientist nodded approvingly. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating! As always thanks for the comments and kudos. Feedback is always welcome - nay - encouraged! 
> 
> Also, I have no experience with the military and have only the utmost respect for them.


	4. Aftereffect

Bucky blinked slowly, as if the act would suddenly dispel the two apparitions that stood in front of him. Thrusting a pair of trainers at him Melinda May folded her arms pointedly over her chest, her eyes narrowing in a calculated gaze as she slowly appraised Bucky’s dishevelled form. Bucky wasn’t entirely sure the half smirk that flitted across her mouth was a hallucination due to his semi drunk state, but the sudden look of amusement that flared across May’s face quickly said otherwise.

“What are you doing here Melinda?” Bucky half growled, his voice hoarse and his mouth feeling unpleasantly like cotton wool as he tried to decipher why exactly Steve and Melinda, both annoyingly fresh faced, were dressed head to toe in Lycra and looking expectantly at him. Leaning into the kitchen counter Bucky resisted the urge to lie down on the floor as he cast a weary glance towards Steve. To his credit the artist looked somewhat shamefaced.

“I thought it would be fun if Steve joined us this morning.” Melinda intoned, her voice deadpan as she looked deliberately at her watch.

“What?” Bucky questioned somewhat blearily as Steve helpfully held out a glass of tepid water under his nose. Gratefully taking the proffered drink Bucky gulped it down, he could veritably feel the water creeping into his brain, the pain somewhat easing.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” Melinda breathed heavily through her nostrils, in another life Bucky was convinced she would have made an excellent drill sergeant. That or a spy, what was it they said about still waters running deep?

“The group bonding thing through strenuous exercise was today?” Bucky groaned, slumping into the counter, his back awkwardly pressing against the work surface. The new pain in his lower back went some way to distract him from the pounding throb in his head that was currently his brain trying its level best to escape from his skull. Taking another restorative sip of water Bucky cracked one eye open and attempted to glower at his therapist in the process. The contemptuous look Melinda sent him in response spoke of a message that lacked the distinct menace he’d been intending. Placing the glass down gently on the countertop Bucky roughly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Tell you what.” Bucky paused for effect, blue eyes flicking between Steve and Melinda. “Why don’t you call Sam and Clint, that way you can all bear witness to my tragic demise at the hands of Melinda May. Call it a party.”

“A jog is hardly going to kill you – stop being so melodramatic.” Melinda dismissed Bucky’s complaint with a casual wave of her hand.

“I really don’t have to come today,” Steve offered with a small plaintive shrug.

“No.” Bucky and Melinda snapped eerily at the same time, sending the artist almost identical unimpressed, withering looks.

“Okaayy.” Steve breathed, his eyes wide as he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Just trying to find the best solution for everyone involved here.”

“If I’ve gotta go for a jog, then you sure as hell have to as well.” Bucky muttered somewhat darkly as he headed for his room. The fact that Steve was seemingly impervious to hangovers meant that his friend now deserved to be duly punished. And whilst Bucky was nursing a head that felt decidedly broken, he wasn’t above watching Steve squirm thanks to Melinda’s surplus of candour. “Give me a minute to change will ya?”

“Make it quick.” Melinda replied as she pulled her hair into a ponytail before turning to Steve as Bucky disappeared into his bedroom. “I only wanted you to come today as Bucky has a tendency to prevaricate.”

“Sure,” Steve replied easily. Hugging his chest with one arm the artist’s gaze slid towards the window, a bright blue sky that promised a crisp winter’s day greeting him.

“It has absolutely nothing to do with your tee shirts.” Melinda added, her face impassive. “Or how you look in them.”

Steve blushed; coughing awkwardly he clapped a hand against his chest before stuffing his fists into his pockets. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

Melinda nodded, her eyes shadowed. Any further conversation between her and Steve and the possibility of what she might do to him, given the chance, was cut short with the re-emergence of Bucky.

“C’mon punk, lets get this over and done with.” Bucky grumbled, his right hand shooting out to punch Steve on the arm.

“Punk?” Melinda queried, her eyebrow arching.

“Too many Clint Eastwood movies,” Bucky gave a crooked grin as he shrugged on a hoodie.

“Bucky was convinced he was gonna be cop for a while.” Steve offered the small bit of information as he held the door open for his two companions.

“Yeah, guess stuff doesn’t work out the way you planned it at 13.” Bucky muttered, barely managing to disguise the bitterness behind his words.  Shrugging as if to rid himself of the unpleasant thoughts Bucky blew out a small sigh. Rubbing his eyes with the back of a hand, another physical act serving as a reminder he was no longer allowed to wallow in the self-petty and regret. Sucking in a sharp lungful of air Bucky looked towards his pyhsio. “You thinking of going anywhere in particular Melinda?”

“Yeah,” the woman nodded, before shooting a look over shoulder. “Try to keep up you two.”

Despite himself Bucky grinned, “C’mon Stevie. Can’t keep the lady waiting.”

“No,” Steve agreed. His eyes travelling down Melinda’s figure, for a brief moment he wondered what it would be like if she sat for him. The sudden urge to fetch his charcoals caused his fingers to itch. “No we cannot.”

* * *

The early afternoon sun hit Darcy’s cheeks as she sat slumped against Jane on one of the many benches scattered about Central Park. Wriggling in her seat Darcy attempted to bury herself in the many layers of clothing she had fortuitously decided to wear. Thermals leggings and a bright blue jumper under a hefty overcoat, a knit hat topping off her chosen ensemble. Having always been a comfort over style kind of girl often led Darcy to make interesting sartorial choices. Namely several jumpers that could have easily been knitted by her grandmother were worn unironically, often and with affection. Working for Stark Industries had somewhat curtailed her preference for loud prints and wool but Darcy would be damned if she was about to be turned into some sort of worker drone. She was convinced if she were to open Coulson’s wardrobe she’d discover rows upon rows of white button downs and five identical charcoal grey suits jostling for prominence. The idea of jeans and Coulson was unthinkable. In fact, she was pretty certain at his most casual Phil might just be able to muster a pair of chinos.

 

Blowing onto her coffee Darcy snuggled further into Jane, eliciting a small yelp of annoyance from the scientist as the older woman attempted to balance the newspaper and a pain au chocolate on her knee whilst scooping a layer of foamy milk onto her finger and directly into her mouth.

“How’s your head?” Jane asked, her forehead creasing in the middle as she tried to decide on the best way to eat her pastry. Both she and Darcy were honing it to an art.

“Decidedly hang over free,” Darcy replied, altogether too smug. “So that’s a win.”

“It’ll change you know – when you hit thirty. Did you read that article…” Jane paused as Darcy shifted against her.

“Oh sweet Baby Jesus,” Darcy moaned, her eyes flicking frantically between the figures approaching them and any possible means of escape. “What are the actual fucking chances?”

“What?” Jane asked in alarm, her head jolting up as she looked towards Darcy in confusion and then turning back to face the two paths that intersected in front of them.

“Bucky.” Darcy replied quickly, a slight tremor to her voice as she attempted to subtly observe the man’s progress. “He’s with Steve and someone else.  And they are jogging. They look like a fucking Calvin Klein commercial, or maybe Ralph Lauren? You know what, something classy because they’re not even sweating – they’re artfully glistening. They’re fucking glowing. “ The intern paused for breath, before her gaze suddenly darkened. “Oh God, hide me.”

“Why?” Jane exclaimed as Darcy attempted to bury her face in the crook of Jane’s neck. “Darce.”

“Because they look like the kind of people who get up in the morning and go for a jog, and whilst jogging they save whole buses full of nuns and then they just get on with their day. And obviously, throughout _all_ the exercise and life saving somehow they manage to not get one glossy hair out of place,” Darcy sighed. “I bet you they recycle too and the debt of developing countries probably keeps them up at night.”

“Don’t you think you’re getting a little carried away?” Jane asked wryly, doing her best to hide the smile that was dangerously close to materialising.

“No,” Darcy replied somewhat petulantly. “Ok maybe…. “

“Hi!” Jane said brightly, extending her arm past Darcy’s hunched over form whilst simultaneously doing her best to push the intern upright. “You must be Bucky.”

“Hi, Jane right? Pleasure to meet you.” Came a smooth even voice as Jane found her hand encased by a much larger, warmer one. “ This is Melinda and Steve.”

Both Melinda and Steve gave the ubiquitous greeting of ‘Hey’ in response, Steve even offering a small wave.

Jane flashed her best thousand-watt smile whilst subtly elbowing Darcy sharply in the side. The stealthiness of Jane’s operation was somewhat compromised when Darcy jolted upright, throwing her friend a scandalised look as she quickly rubbed her arm.

“Hello,” the intern finally spoke up, dropping into the voice normally reserved for answering her phone at SI. “Nice to meet you Melinda. Nice to see you again Steve… Bucky.”

The solider flushed, his gaze dropping to the floor as he smiled a crooked smile.

“You guys up to much?” Steve asked, surreptitiously observing both Bucky and Darcy who seemed to be looking anywhere but at each other.

“Darcy dragged me out of the lab for some actual food and coffee.  Apparently there’s such a thing as too much research.” Jane made a face; she and Darcy still had disagreements over the very matter, often leading to the confiscation of Pop-Tarts. Darcy would then do her level best to eat the contraband substance whenever in Jane’s presence. “I think we kind of failed on the actual food part though.” Jane shrugged, taking a large bite of flaky pastry.

“What kind of research are you doing?” Melinda questioned, perching on the end of the bench as she stretched out her black spandex covered legs. Darcy couldn’t help but admire the definition. Whoever she was, Melinda was hot.

“I’m an astrophysicist - I’m looking into Einstein-Rosen bridges.”

“Wormholes,” Darcy helpfully interjected.

“Right,” Jane nodded giving Darcy an indulgent smile. “Wormholes.”

“Wow, impressive.” Melinda replied, nodding slowly as she digested the nugget of information.

Jane shrugged modestly, “Some people are great at running or whatever. Science is my thing.”

 

“So…” Steve rocked back on his heels as he tried to gauge Bucky’s reaction to what he was about to do. “If you guys aren’t too busy we’re kind of having a get together in the loft next week.”

“We are?” Bucky asked in surprise.

“Your birthday – remember?” Steve reminded gently.

Bucky let a low shaky laugh, “I wasn’t really expecting…”

“It’ll be good,” Melinda nodded encouragingly. “Maybe we can try for moderate levels of excess to avoid repeats of this morning.”

“You’re coming?” Bucky shot back, failing not to sound somewhat incredulous.

“I’m invited right?” Melinda challenged.

Bucky’s expression quickly softened, a warm smile blooming across his features. “Of course you are.”

“Just don’t expect a present.” May shot back, a small grin tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, great!” Jane added, hoping Darcy did in fact want to go and wasn’t about to murder the scientist for tipping the delicate balance between coy and eager askew. “Bucky has Darcy’s number – just text her the details and we will be there. Right?”

“Yes!” Darcy yelled after a small delay, the third elbow from Jane that morning jolting her out of her musings. “We’d love to come. You know anything involving alcohol. Not that we’re suggesting we’re only going for the booze or that we’re alcoholics or anything. Because we’re not.”

“No,” Jane confirmed, pursing her lips to stop herself from laughing.

“I’ll text you when I get home,” Bucky coughed.

 

The soldier’s eyes raked across Darcy before quickly snapping back towards Jane, the scientist’s brown eyes a much safer option. Bucky had noticed Darcy before she’d seen him. It almost seemed like the image of Darcy leaning into her friend’s side, sipping every so often on the largest coffee he’d seen, belonged to a moment he shouldn’t have been privy to. Darcy entirely relaxed, her head thrown back in amusement as she huddled into her clothes trying to fend off the cold. Bucky had tried his best not to laugh as the conversation between Darcy and Jane played out, Darcy’s hand gestures growing gradually more erratic before she finally buried her head in Jane’s neck.

 

The intense urge to pull Darcy into his arms had been so utterly distracting that reverting to the tried and tested method of ‘ignore the girl’ was quickly adopted – it was senior prom all over again. The war had managed to unmake him; crippling levels of shyness he hadn’t experienced since high school were beginning to resurface. The easy self-confidence he used to wield with such unerring accuracy was gone. Instead he was left avoiding glances and fumbling words. For a few blinding moments the night before he’d managed to peel back the layers of issues and insecurities. But now it was the morning after and he couldn’t admit to or act on his feelings.

 

Steve’s bony finger prodding him sharply in the side brought him to. Darcy had somehow managed to move off the bench and position herself in front of him. Her mouth, which he was now intimately acquainted with, was widened in an earnest smile. An errant curl bobbed about Darcy’s face, the wind buffeting it into her lipstick. Frowning she attempted to push it out of the way, only Bucky’s fingers promptly ensnared the strand and tucked it back under her hat. Their eyes met, a searing memory of the night before punctuating the non-existent conversation, before Bucky forced himself to speak.

“Yeah, I’ll text you…” The soldier paused, taking a sharp lungful of breath before slowly exhaling and meeting Darcy’s gaze once more. “I’d really like it if you could come.”

“It’s a date,” Darcy replied with a small flush. “With other people present.”

“Right,” Bucky laughed. “We probably better get going, see you next week?”

“Sure,” Darcy nodded firmly before turning to address Melinda and Steve. “Nice to see you.”

Having dispensed of their goodbyes the joggers left Darcy and Jane on their park bench, the intern basking in a warm heady glow. Despite the initial awkwardness she had somehow managed to emerge the other side unscathed and with a date to boot.

Somewhat buoyed Darcy pulled Jane back to her feet, “C’mon ex boss lady, lets head inside, I actually can’t feel by butt.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there will be far more one-on-one Bucky/Darcy next chapter! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please let me know what you think!


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